


Divine

by platinumnib



Category: Nightwish
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/F, Floorja, Kissing, lovebite, royal blue dress
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-22
Updated: 2017-04-22
Packaged: 2018-10-22 17:44:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10701951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/platinumnib/pseuds/platinumnib
Summary: Blue is the color of many a divinity: Krishna, the king of Egyptian gods Amun, the Sumerian mother goddess Inanna, the virgin Mary and Tarja Turunen.





	Divine

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr promptfill. Anonymous wanted a story where Tarja wore a certain royal blue dress, I wrote one.  
> Please leave kudos or (even better) comment, it means the world to me = )

Floor stood in the doorway, transfixed by Tarja’s balletic moves between her dressing table and the full length mirror. From one to the other, she flitted again and again, examining every change she made to her makeup a few times over before adding the next touch, carefully looking over the bottom of her dress to see how much fabric was grazing the ground and tucking back a strand of hair that had never come untucked in the first place.

She was like that, before concerts, too anxious she wouldn’t look as flawless as her fans deserved.

When she was all done and gorgeous at last, her breath was heavy, but her eyes were glowing with contentment. She turned to face her girlfriend and her arms and eyebrows rose as a silent question.

Floor couldn’t answer, spellbound as she was by the heavenly model standing in front of her. For the hundredth time or what seemed like it, her eyes went up and down the endless expanse of royal blue covering Tarja’s lissome frame, from her ankles to her neck. Tarja, encased in luxurious silk, was like an offering waiting to be unwrapped by Floor’s fevered fingers.

The small goddess probably wasn’t even aware of the glorious pose she was striking, and that made Floor’s knees a little tremulous.

She felt so overwhelmed, all of a sudden, that she had to hold on to the door not to swoon. For a good thirty seconds, she even forgot to blink, until Tarja snapped her out of her reverie.

“So? What do you think?”

Floor finally made it through the haze and shut her mouth, which she only then realized had been half-open all along.

“You’re…”

She swallowed heavily.

“Divine.”

“You’re not very helpful if you say the same thing every time,” Tarja admonished, hands on hips.

“You shouldn’t even have to ask, Tari.”

“Oh, Floor, you’re such a dear,” she said with a coy pink blush starting to tinge her cheeks. Floor would have none of that.

She strode over decidedly to Tarja and, clasping her hands behind her neck, leant down to press an impatient kiss to her lips. Tarja, taken by surprise, gave a gasp, but quickly caught on and kissed back, albeit in a more civilized manner than her girlfriend.

The liplock lasted a good, long while and tasted sweet from the grapes in Floor’s lipstick. When they had to part, some of it was unfortunately smeared around both their mouths.

Tarja slid a finger across her cheek to wipe off the purple stain, before holding it up in front of her.

“I’ll still be here after the show, you know,” she thought wise to gently remind her over enthusiastic companion.

“No… You don’t get to be so lovely, Tarja,” Floor whispered, “then tell me to behave.”

At that, she went right back in for a second kiss, wrapping her arms around Tarja’s back and splaying her fingers out across the satin, which felt even more marvelous than it looked. She squeezed it and her as tight as she possibly could, so tight her knuckles went pale and her lips started to numb, until Tarja groaned for breath and she had to let her go.

They freed their mouths from one another, both panting a little, but Floor kept her arms around Tarja’s body and lovingly set her chin on the hollow between Tarja’s neck and shoulder.

“Do you think you could ask the costumer to keep this dress?” she asked with a small kiss dropped on her nape, where the dress didn’t reach.

Tarja furrowed her brows.

“Why would I?”

“For private use… I’d love to take it off of you,” she breathed against the shell of Tarja’s ear, “and lay you down on top of it.”

“Keep going.”

“I’d touch you all over, every inch of skin, I’d stroke and squeeze - and taste, too. You do know you’re delicious, don’t you?”

“Uh-uh?” Tarja husked out.

“Yes, you taste special; something sweet but tangy; acidic. You taste strong, like limes. I’d eat you out, and drink that nectar of yours, until you beg me to stop.”

“Oh… I’m sure I could get to keep the dress then.”

“I’m glad,” she murmured, still nuzzling at Tarja’s neck with a new purpose. She wanted to mark her body.

Her lips latched onto Tarja’s pale throat and started sucking on it; moans arose, first in protest, asking to be freed so she could go see to her business, then in encouragement, begging for the beautiful sensation to remain.

Floor made sure it did, the tip of her tongue peeking through her lips to soothe the skin she was nibbling on.  After a full minute, she let go and, with a half-proud, half-mischievous smirk, turned Tarja around to face the mirror.

A purplish lovebite now stood out against her pale skin; she brought her hand up to her mouth in horror at the thought of going onstage with her dubious adornment, but Floor simply picked the black sheer shawl Tarja had left on the back of a chair, then draped it around her shoulders and neck, concealing the intimate mark.

“There,” she cheered. “Now, no one will know how much I love you.”

“Floor,” Tarja sighed, “you just can’t hold yourself, love.”

 

* * *

 

The show had been fabulous, the crowd fierce and passionate, and Tarja had just climaxed a few times in quick succession as a reward for a job well done and a punishment for making Floor’s heart burst with lust.

She breathed in and out, slowly floating off her little euphoric cloud; as her chest heaved slower and slower, her hands unclenched around the blue satin underneath her, now sodden in places thanks to Floor’s unrelenting attentions.

“Christ, give me a break! Please… just a few minutes,” she pleaded. Her voice was hoarse and husky, no doubt from so many squeals and ecstatic cries for mercy.

The wicked woman peeked up from between Tarja’s thighs, seemingly quite smug about having licked her undone yet again. Her face was flushed, her chin glistened with the honey she’d just been lapping and her hair was the wildest mess. At that moment, she was more a starved animal feeding off of a half-willing prey than anything else.

“Please tell me you’ve had enough limes, my big beauty.”

Floor gave a mischievous grin.

“Never enough,” she said, before burrowing once more against Tarja’s womanhood. She almost cried out, feeling the rough tongue slide along her pulsing and over sensitive folds.

“God, I love you more than you’ll ever know, Floor!” the throaty sounds slipped unbidden past her lips.

For only a few seconds, Floor brought her sensual torture to a halt. Her mouth pressed a soft kiss to Tarja’s mons and she whispered against the sweet yielding flesh.

“I worship you.”


End file.
